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The Galactic Sentinel: Ultimate Edition: 4 Books with 2000+ Pages of Highly Entertaining Sci-Fi Space Adventure

Page 61

by Killian Carter


  A Chimera Varg laying on his back reached up with one arm, his other arm missing. Taza put three shots into the Varg’s head before he could start begging for his life. It was always harder when they started to beg.

  He made one more round of the immediate corridors, double checking he got everyone, then decided to head to the chamber where Assad and his men attended the wounded.

  Another squad of guards had joined them in the chamber. The squad leader, a well-built human, approached Taza as he entered. “I’m Lieutenant Herschel. I hear you’re the crazy bastard who climbed across the Tower and took Chimera from the rear.”

  “Name’s Taza.”

  The Lieutenant looked Taza up and down. “I’m not sure who you are, Taza, but I’m sure as hell glad you’re on our side. I’m told that, with Captain Harnuck dead, you’re in charge around here.”

  “I’m standing in for now.” He wasn’t sure who had designated him as the person in charge, but with Assad busy taking care of the wounded and dying, he was happy to help direct matters until someone who could lead showed up. This squad leader seemed to fit the bill. “I’ll not be sticking around for long. It’d be great if you could take over when I leave.”

  The Lieutenant nodded. “We got the last few on the other side of the seventh on our way here.”

  “I’m glad you could join us.”

  “What would you like us to do, Taza?”

  He thought about it for a second. “Post your guards at the main doorways between here and the sixth floor. Try to spread them out evenly. If anyone spots anything, have them contact you and Assad immediately. Best we don’t have any surprises. The SIA agents can take over once they get their hairy asses up here.”

  “Consider it done, sir,” Herschel said, moving off to speak to his men.

  It felt strange giving orders again. It had been a long time since he’d held a position of authority, and Taza didn’t miss it one bit.

  A Yalore Tower Guard who looked like he had been waiting approached. “Commander Taza.”

  “Please, just Taza.”

  “Er…Yessir. A medivac team are waiting outside. They’re saying they won’t be able to get their equipment past the collapsed levels. Too much rubble.”

  “What do they mean they can’t get through? There’s a damn hole the size of a small air hangar just across the hall. You could fit three aircars in there. Tell them to fly up or they’ll have to explain to the Galactic Council why they let Minister Foster die.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Yalore said, giving a slight bow. “Right away.”

  He scurried off to make the call.

  Taza approached Assad before anyone else could stop him. The old man was elbow-deep in blood but had somehow kept his pristine robes clean. “This floor is secure and Lieutenant Herschel’s men have the doors between here and the sixth. A medivac should be arriving across the hallway any minute now, and all being well, the SIA won’t be far behind.”

  “Thank you Taza.” He pointed to a forlorn looking Aegis sitting by the chamber doors. “You and Zantho can let the Minister’s know they can come out now.”

  “Me?” Taza asked bewildered.

  Assad looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Well I can hardly do it. I’m tied up here, aren’t I?”

  “I can see that.” Taza motioned to Assad’s patient—a young unconscious Shanti with half his Tower Guard armor still on. Assad had been working on a bad bullet wound in his side. “I don’t think so. I’m getting out of dodge before they know I’m here.”

  The old man sighed deeply. He pulled Taza into a corner, adding to the bloodstains on his coat, and lowered his voice so no one could hear. “I should have guessed you wouldn’t stick around. Listen, Straiya would probably kill me for telling you this, but she was really cut up about how the Galactic Council treated you. And when she thought you were dead…when we all thought you were dead...let’s just say Straiya was never quite the same after that.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Assad?” Taza did his best not to shout. He hadn’t expected those old wounds to be opened. “You’ve lost it. I gave Minister Straiya everything I had when I was her head Archagent, and she threw me to the dogs. That, I could live with, but when someone on the Council tried to have me assassinated…That wouldn’t have happened if she really did have my back.”

  Ambassador Assad shook his head. “Ten years later and you’re still just a lost boy.”

  “Don’t give me that shit, Assad,” Taza muttered, restraining himself. “You aren’t innocent in all of this either.”

  “Yes, I was an asshole, and I apologize for that. I don’t expect your forgiveness for what I did, but I’ll have you know that Jurisha played us both like fools. We were nothing but stepping stones for her.”

  “Stepping stones?”

  “She was only in it for the game. She needed you to get to me, and she only needed me to become the new Director of the SIA. As soon as Straiya stepped down as SIA Director to focus on the Aegi Order, Jurisha swooped in and took the position, dropping me in the process. She’s so clever, neither us saw it. I can still hardly believe I fell for it if I’m honest. I mean, I’m the politician.”

  “I had no idea,” Taza’s words trailed off. “The head of the SIA.”

  “Straiya didn’t throw you to the dogs, Taza. I had to make that call because Straiya refused to have any part in it. But you have to understand that I had no other choice. The Yalore and Rivarians had us over a barrel. The choice was you or another Shanti civil war.”

  “A civil war that happened anyway,” Taza countered. He knew it was a childish point but couldn’t help himself. “And what do you mean Straiya wouldn’t make the call?”

  Assad wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and leaned in closer, hissing through his teeth to be on the safe side. “Because Straiya loved you, you fool!”

  Taza’s jaw fell open. “What?” He moved his mouth but couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

  “The Council figured as much when she wouldn’t make the call. We knew your ship’s core explosion was no accident. We thought whoever had killed—I mean—tried to kill you, did it to get at Straiya, or because they were against interracial relationships. You know how people are about that kind of thing. We tried to investigate, but the few avenues we found ran cold. Either way, the Galactic Council have had Straiya’s back against the wall ever since. She gave a lot for you that day. The assassin slipped under our radar because she had to take a step back when the Council put her under fire. Again, I accept full responsibility. Blame me, not Straiya.”

  Taza felt like he had been transported to an alternate reality. “This is a lot to take on board.”

  “If she found out you were here but couldn’t bear to face her, it would destroy her.”

  Taza blinked several times to make sure he was still awake then gathered his thoughts with a deep breath. “I understand. I’ll let the Ministers know, but only if you come with me. They’ll be more likely to listen to you anyway.”

  Assad looked back at his patient and saw that someone else had taken over. “Fine.”

  He walked to a bowl of water and hastily toweled the blood from his arms before joining Taza at the door that lead to the safe-room. The ambassador entered his credentials and the door whined open.

  They walked through and the walkway began to move as soon as they stepped on it, carrying them deep into Sentinel Tower.

  “You know, Straiya—”

  “Let’s not talk about that right now,” Taza cut in. He needed time to gather his wits before facing his past.

  “Of course. We lost a lot of good people today,” Assad said, changing the subject. “Captain Harnuck was a fine leader for the Tower Guard. And they got Minister Foster’s father too.”

  Taza raised his eyebrows at that. “In the seventh-floor chamber?”

  Assad nodded.

  “What was Foster Senior doing there?” Taza asked.

  “We aren’t sure yet. Haven’t had time
to answer questions. But we covered him with the others in case Minister Foster goes into distress. I hear the Minister was badly wounded. Hopefully they have him sedated. Captain Harnuck took a pair of medics with him when Captain Grimshaw brought the Ministers in.”

  “That’ll complicate things, no doubt.”

  “I don’t care much for Minister Foster, especially with his recent antics, but his father was one of Earth’s best,” Assad said sadly.

  “I hear he played a crucial role in turning back the Kragak during the war.”

  Assad nodded. “He did at that. When his fleet took back Colony 23, he had every right to remain on board his ship, but the Kragak ground forces had taken out too many orbital strike teams, and he ended up taking his crew down to the planet. He knew they wouldn’t get another chance to win back such a key position. It allowed the Confederation to get a strike team to Gorthore. Captain Grimshaw was on that strike team.”

  “So I’m told,” Taza said, forcing himself not to think about Straiya. “I’m also told that he doesn’t like to talk about it.”

  “I can’t say I blame him. He was the only person to made it back alive.”

  They carried on with small talk until they arrived in the safe-house antechamber. Assad went straight to the comms panel.

  “Ambassador Assad here. It’s safe to come out now.”

  “Voice recognition complete. Please provide a retinal scan and clearance codes.”

  Assad did as the computer requested.

  “Authorization accepted, please standby as the occupants are notified.”

  Several seconds later, a camera emerged from the panel.

  “Who is it?” a gruff voice said over the speaker.

  “It’s Ambassador Assad. I’m here to let you know that the threat has been neutralized. You can come out now.”

  “How do we know we can trust you?”

  Assad shrugged. “I provided the security clearance.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything. You’ll have to wait. Hey. What—”

  “Assad, it’s Straiya here. Farmorai is right. We need evidence that you haven’t been…compromised.”

  Hearing the Minister’s voice made the hairs on the back of Taza’s neck stand on end. “The Sentinel’s systems are back online,” he interjected. “Check the Tower’s security feed. You’ll see that the enemy has been neutralized.”

  The speaker cut, and the camera snapped around to focus on him.

  Taza awkwardly looked from the camera, to Assad, to the door, then back to Assad again. The old man gave him an encouraging nod which made the blood rush to his face. What the hell’s wrong with me?

  The lock inside the door slowly rolled open, and the door grated as it lifted into the ceiling.

  Minister Farmorai emerged followed by the others.

  Straiya remained just inside the safe-room, standing as still as a statue, staring at Taza.

  He thought she was just going to stay there forever and tried to think of something to say when she took a step toward him.

  Taza’s head started getting light, and he realized that he’d been holding his breath since the last time he spoke. He inhaled through his nostrils, hoping they didn’t flare too much. He suddenly became self-conscious about his appearances and realized that his coat was torn to bits and covered in blood. Hardly fitting for a meeting with the Galaxy’s most powerful people, but then I did just help fight off their attackers.

  He hoped the gesture would go a long way in keeping him out of trouble when it came to light that he had deserted the intelligence wing of the Sentinel’s armed forces.

  Straiya walked toward him, slowly and gracefully, never taking her wide yellow eyes off his. Taza wasn’t surprised to find that she had barely aged since they’d last met. Apart from a slight crease on the bridge of Straiya’s nose, her swarthy skin was as smooth as he remembered, and her tawny hair was just as lustrous. Shanti rarely developed things like lines, wrinkles, and other things that humans considered synonymous with growing old.

  Her expression remained impassive as she walked; it was one of the things that had always annoyed Taza. He found it hard to trust people he couldn’t read.

  She stopped a foot before him and reached out, cupping his cheeks, her slender hands soft and warm on his rough face, her pointed nails pressing between his temples and ears.

  “Taza Arkona,” she whispered, her golden eyes studying his face. “Is it really you?”

  He’d grown his beard and it had turned white in his forties, making him look older that he was. He suspected that he looked much different than what he had almost ten years ago. “I’ve probably put on a few pounds and got a few gray hairs, but it’s definitely me.”

  He tried to smile, but only managed half a smirk.

  Straiya’s analytic expression suddenly melted away, her eyes scrunching in what he guessed was sorrow. She withdrew her right hand and slapped him hard with a loud whack.

  The others in the antechamber suddenly fell silent.

  Taza lifted his hand to his stinging skin, too stunned for words. As his hand came away, anger swelled. He was about to snap when he noticed tears welling in the corners of Straiya’s oval eyes. She didn’t cry out or even whimper, but a tear broke free and streaked down her left cheek. Without thinking, Taza reached out with his right hand and wiped it away with his thumb.

  Straiya bowed her head and leaned into his chest, and Taza brought her into an embrace.

  Everyone was still quiet, and Taza got the feeling they were being watched intently. He tried to pull away, but Straiya almost squeezed the wind out of him, her cheek bone jabbing into his shoulder.

  Straiya’s chest heaved as she drew a breath and her grip loosened. She stepped away, her head still bowed. Taza reached out again and lifted her chin up so that she looked him in the eyes.

  Before he knew what was happening, the Minister’s arms wrapped around his neck, and her mouth pressed against his, her lips swollen from crying.

  Taza froze as they kissed, his arms holding the back of Straiya’s shoulder, his eyes still open, his mind not knowing what to do.

  Assad cleared his throat and Straiya drew away slowly, her eyes opening to look into Taza’s once again.

  “I hate to be the one to break up a reunion,” the ambassador said. “But we should probably get moving.”

  Straiya stood tall again, her shoulders squared, her usual resolve returned. “Yes, we must take stock before deciding how to react,” she said with steel in her voice. “Let us go.”

  She led the group onto the moving walkway, Minister Farmorai a step behind—not one to allow another Minister to get too far ahead even in the current circumstances.

  Taza and a Tower Guard stood behind them, while the medical team tended to Minister Foster on his cot to the rear. The human Minister was unconscious, as Assad had hoped, but stable.

  They rode the moving walkway in silence, emerging into the chamber some time later. Taza was glad to see the wounded had already been relocated. Three Tower Guard officers moved about the room as they tidied. When they saw the Minister’s arrive, they stopped what they were doing and bowed deeply.

  “As you were,” Straiya said.

  Lieutenant Herschel approached, saluting. “Good to see you are all okay.”

  Straiya nodded and took in the destruction in the room. The overturned furniture. The gaping hole in the far wall where the chamber doors had been. The smashed ornaments and chunks of plaster scattered across the floor. The blood-marked surfaces. “Our thanks to you and your men for keeping us safe,” she said, tipping her head in appreciation.

  “Just doing our job, ma’am,” Herschel said. “We’ve got the area secured, but it would be best to get you Minister’s somewhere…a little less exposed.”

  Minister Farmorai mumbled something in dissatisfaction, but the Lieutenant ignored him, looking to Straiya and Taza instead.

  “A medivac is waiting across the hall as you ordered, Taza.” Herschel gestured to
the guards standing at the largest hole and they waved in a medical team wearing yellow TEKs.

  Everyone made way as they guided a medical trolley toward Minister Foster and transferred his cot onto it. They exchanged information with the Tower medics as they exited the chamber, heading for the emergency vehicle.

  “When the medivac is out of the way, your SIA cars will pick you Ministers up.” Herschel turned to the Tower Guard who had been inside the safe-room with the politicians. “You fellas come with me. As you can see by the state of the place, there’s still plenty of work to be done.”

  They withdrew to a corner where Herschel gave them new orders, leaving Taza with Assad and the two remaining Ministers.

  “With all that out of the way, what do we do about this?” Farmorai’s arm swept out to take in Taza.

  “You need to be more specific, Farmorai,” Straiya all but snapped.

  “Enough of your games, Shanti. Have you no respect for those who gave their lives this day.” The Rivarian said with revulsion. “Something needs to be done with this…criminal. He deserted the SIA, did he not?”

  Taza knew it would come to this, though he hadn’t expected it so soon. It was the reason he wanted to leave before the Ministers had seen him. He half-wished he hadn’t let Assad talk him into staying.

  Assad gestured to what remained of the chamber. “That’s hardly a subject to be concerned with right at this moment Minister—”

  “Nonsense!” Minister Farmorai cut the ambassador off with a shriek. “Think about it. Where’s Taza been all these years? For all we know, he could have been plotting with the enemy.”

  “Taza assisted us in—”

  “Lieutenant Herschel,” Farmorai ordered, cutting Assad off again. “Bring your guards back over here right away.”

  The Lieutenant did as he was ordered, returning with two guards in tow, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted. “Is everything okay, Minister?”

  “This man was once known as the Ghost. He deserted the SIA. He once served as an Archagent but is now an enemy of the Sentinel. You will hold him until SenSec can take him in for questioning.”

 

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